Step Aside, Go Through!
by SierLeAn
Summary: Toothless was a loner viking just trying to prove to his adopted father that he was a good hair and warrior. However upon the return of the elusive Night Fury, a dragon not seen in many years, he finds that maybe he doesn't have to prove anything. (Shifting Points of View)
1. Toothless

_**Small Update! Anyone who's already read this chapter on 6/4/2018 and 6/5/2018 before 7:06 PM Eastern Standard Time (Florida time) I've made a slight adjustment, nothing huge is changed, I just added a small detail that comes up later regarding Toothless' arrows.**_

* * *

For as long as anyone could remember, Berk had been in a constant struggle for survival. They combated the cold, sickness, shortage in food, and battle injuries. However the most common cause of death, was the constant dragon raids that plagued the island. The battles waged resulted in major injuries and heavy losses, and their food sources dwindled with each raid as the dragons escaped with fish and sheep in their claws.

Instead of leaving, the Hairy Hooligan tribe stubbornly stayed on Berk. Not once did the thought of leaving cross their minds, even after seven generations of constant battle. They were Vikings, they would not run in fear or cower. Berk was their home and it would stay that way, dragons and bitter cold be damned.

I was awake before the first ax was thrown. Waking up to shouting and roaring and fire wasn't a shock to anyone on Berk unless you were a child. I simply threw my covers off, pulled on my clothes, and grabbed my bow and quiver.

My earliest memory was a dragon raid. It was fuzzy, but I could recall the heat, the brightness of the fire against the dark sky. I could remember a slender, dark haired woman, her arms warm and comforting around me, and a larger, dark haired man who felt safe and sheltering as he protected us.

I rushed out of the house, narrowly dodging a blast of fire. I kept to the shadows as I made my way through the streets, easily avoiding the battling Vikings and dragons. One Viking happened to see me, his axe raised and bellowing fiercely, only to smile and brightly say "Morning!" before he passed me.

I should probably introduce myself. I'm Toothless. Not actually, I assure you I have all my teeth and they are perfection, if I do say so myself, best in the village. Names like mine are given to scare away gnomes and trolls. I'd think our charming Viking demeanor would do that, and if not the dragons would.

I jumped over a ledge, not bothering with the stairs, and passing Vikings yelped and shouted as I narrowly dodged each of them. Exasperation colored each of their voices as they called "Watch where you're going!" and "Get out of the way!" after me.

I was almost to my destination when a thick hand shot out in front of me, slamming into my chest and pulling me to stand next to a large Viking with a shaggy red beard.

"Toothless! What are ye doing here? Get to your place!" He ordered, shoving me back into the street and not sparing me a second glance as he hefted up an over turned cart and chucked it at a nearby dragon, downing it easily.

That's Skullcrusher the Dense, Chief of Berk. He's the best of the best. They say that when he was a baby, he ripped the head of a dragon clear off it's shoulders. Do I believe it? Eh, no, not really, but I do believe he could do such a thing now. He definitely lives up to his name.

I paused for a moment, listening as the Chief asked one of the Vikings about the dragons. There were Gronckles. Nadders. Zipplebacks. A Monstrous Nightmare. The usual.

No Night Furies, though. There hadn't been a Night Fury attack in a long, long time.

Finally I reached my destination, a building easily spotted due to the line of Vikings waiting impatiently at the window and the heat that emenated like dragon fire. The Forge.

The hulking figure of the blacksmith glanced up as I slipped passed the line and into the Forge, a grin spreading across his face. "Ah, I was wonderin' when ye'd get here, was worried ye were carried off."

"Tch, me? Please, I'm way too tough for their taste." I scoffed, stocking my quiver with arrows and slinging it in it's place on my back. "They wouldn't be able to handle all this." I pretended to flex my muscles.

"Well, they need toothpicks, don' they?" The older man teased, switching out his hammer for another tool.

The meathead with logs for arms and boulders for hands is Grump the Laze, Berk's blacksmith. When I was younger I took time off of weapons and fighting classes to work as his apprentice and still occasionally come by to help out. Also, despite what he and others might tell you, I'm not that skinny, just compact. Not everyone can have the bulging muscles most of Berk's population sported.

My quiver now full and a few bolas attatched to my belt, I threw a quick goodbye to Grump before sprinting back out into the fray, once more keeping to the shadows.

Only minutes after leaving the Forge, I came across five teens, all carrying buckets of water and working on putting out whatever fires they could.

That's the Fire Brigade. Every young Viking dreams of having that job, to be in the middle of battle, even if they couldn't fight. It's made up of five teens, all around my age.

There's Magnhild, who was thickly muscled and tall for a girl her age. She's fierce, but also such a softy it's ridiculous. She could pull her weight, was handy in a fight and smart too, but give her something small and fuzzy and she'd melt. I tolerated her the most.

Then there's Hookfang, he's brash, quick to act, competitive, and more likely to set a fire then put one out. Some joke that he was born to the wrong species, and should have been a Monstrous Nightmare instead. Those who say that are usually found the next day sporting new burns that were not gained from a raid. Hookfang and I have had a sort of rivalry ever since we were kids, him trying to one up me on everything, and me ignoring him or showing him up in return.

Next were the twins, Barf and Belch. They were tall and lanky. They were never separate, and no one could figure out if they loved or hated each other, switching from vicious fights to perfect synchrony.

Last was Storm. She was also on the slimmer side, but she was a force to be reckoned with. Agile, strong, determined, smart, quick, an over-achiever, subtly vain. That was Storm. She was in love with fighting, it was plain to see, she wanted to be the best and had no patience for anything but winning. We couldn't stand each other, but there was respect, kinda.

I made my way to the outskirts of the village, running up a small path and onto a ledge that overlooked the village. I stuck to the shadows provided by the trees and observed the ongoing battle as I readied an arrow.

Like the Fire Brigade, I had a job as well, and it was much cooler than hauling buckets of water. I took out approaching dragons, ensuring my fellow Vikings didn't get overwhelmed, and I helped get them out of the air for an easier capture.

The job was mine and mine alone. I had come up with it, and it had taken much convincing, but I'm now able to help much better then simply putting out fires. I made my mark.

I pulled back the string of my bow, took aim, and let the arrow fly. It hit close to the wing of a Nadder, bringing it down into the waiting nets with a shriek, the mild paralytic I tipped my arrows with taking quick affect. I payed no other thought to the dragon, turning away and taking aim again.

I've never killed a dragon directly. All I do is bring them down for the other Vikings to deal with. That and my weapon and tactic of choice is what makes me somewhat of an outcast, along with my thinner frame and quieter, solitary nature.

I got my tactics from the Night Fury. A dragon no one has ever seen. Night Furies never steal food, never show themselves, and never miss. They target the lookout towers and catapults while the other dragons go in directly. So I do the same, take out dragons in the air, giving the Vikings a better advantage.

I had noticed that certain Vikings would fight certain dragons. Gronckles are for tough, sturdy Vikings. Nadders and Zipplebacks are for quicker, smarter Vikings. Monstrous Nightmares are saved for the best Vikings, who can stand up to it's raw strength and nasty habit of setting itself on fire.

So why not have a Viking to parallel the elusive Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death itself? A Night Fury tipped the scales in the dragons' favor, I just balanced it out.

I was about to let loose another arrow when an ear piercing shriek tore through the air, followed by a brilliant flash as a blast of blue fire streaked out of the darkness, striking the supports of one of the watchtowers. Startled screams and shouts of "Night Fury! Get down!" rang through the air.

A Night Fury? Now? It's been years since a Night Fury joined a raid! We had thought they had gone extinct, or at least that the one that attacked us, as there only seemed to ever be one, had died. But now it's back!

I watched the sky, crouching slightly as I readied to bolt into the trees for cover. Another shriek rang out and the blue fireball struck a catapult. Without thinking I aimed an arrow into the sky, eyes narrowed as I searched for even a hint of-

 _SSSSHHRRRIIIIIIII-BANG!_

There! A brief shadow passing over the faint starlight before another catapult went down in a blaze, a glimpse of wings and a tail as it passed the fire and I followed it, letting the arrow go, despite there being little chance of actually hitting anything.

However, the Gods seemed to smile down on me, because there was a roar of pain in the direction it had flown, and a shadow fell through the sky, disappearing into the trees.

"I hit a Night Fury.." I muttered, staring wide eyed in shock at where it had landed. "I hit... I hit a Night Fury!" A wide grin stretched across my face and I let out a shout of joy, doing a small victory dance that would have been very embarrassing had anyone been there to see it. I had a reputation of aloofness and dignity to upkeep, after all.

The grin was still on my face when I turned around to look back over the village, only to slowly slip off as I came face to face with a Monstrous Nightmare, no doubt attracted to my shouts of triumph. My heart seemed to be attempting to escape my chest, but I didn't let the fear get to me, instead staring straight at the dragon as it slowly stalked closer. I shifted back, tense and ready to run, my hands clenched my bow till my knuckles went white, but there was no way I'd be able to ready an arrow and shoot at such a close distance. I was quick, but not that quick.

The Nightmare reared it's head up with a low growl and then lunged with a snarl, but I was ready and deftly sprinted away. My legs and lungs burned as I pushed them, but I was fast and I had stamina, enough to keep ahead of the beast.

I ran back into the Village, knowing I couldn't beat the Nightmare, so I'd bring it to someone who could. The streets were quieter and emptier, now that the raid was dying down, and that meant less people in the way and more people gathered in one place, all with weapons and still feeling the rush of battle.

Sure enough, a large crowd was gathered around netted dragons, weapons still gripped tightly and eyes still wild and alert. They all shouted out in alarm and hefted their weapons when I suddenly rounded the corner, an angry Nightmare after me. Once I was in the safety of the crowd, I turned to face the dragon, only to scramble away as it spit fire.

Oh, woops. There went the captured dragons.

The stream of fire stopped and the dragon opened it's jaw to snap, only to suddenly be thrown to the side by a harsh kick to the snout. It's attacker tumbled into a roll and straightened, revealing themselves to be Chief Skullcrusher, who stood his ground as the dragon stood, opening it's mouth to let loose more flames. Only nothing but a small spurt came, and the dragon suddenly looked... well, it looked concerned.

"You're all out." The Chief grunted, advancing on the Nightmare and delivering a few crushing blows before the dragon found it's wings and took off. We all watched it and the freed dragons for a few short moments before Skullcrusher turned, eyes meeting mine and narrowing, a frown clear on his face even from behind his thick beard.

I winced, glancing at the net the dragons had been in. It had been a few Gronkles and Nadders, but now only one of each remained, struggling and shrieking as they were further restrained.

"Sorry, Father."

Yeah, you heard right. That early memory of mine? The man and woman, my parents, hadn't survived passed that memory. However, Chief Skullcrusher had been close to my parents, and was kind enough to take me in as his son, and as a result future Chief, as he had no wife or children.

Skullcrusher sighed gruffly, resting a firm hand on my shoulder. "You did good, Toothless, you'll be a great Viking someday. However when we agreed to let you help, one of the arrangements was for you to stay out of sight and out of the way. And this is why!"

"Yes, I know, father. It was just that I was distracted by the Night Fury, I had a clear shot of it and I even managed to hit it-"

"A Night Fury!?" He exclaimed in disbelief. "Toothless, no Viking has ever even seen a Night Fury, much less hit it!"

I scowled at him, drawing myself up with as much confidence as I could muster, which was a lot, thank you. "But I did! It fell down just off of Raven's Point, if we can gather a search party then-"

"Enough!" He commanded, the hand he had on my shoulder gripping harder as he spun to face me more directly. "You are just a teenager, Toothless, no matter how skilled. No Viking has ever been close to wounding a Night Fury. It's impossible for a teenager, who hasn't even been to dragon training, to do what Vikings with years of experience haven't succeeded in. I have a whole village to feed and winter is on it's way, yet you're here spinning tales!"

My fists clenched, but I refused to look like a cowed little child being reprimended by their parent. "The village could do with a little less feeding, if you asked me..." I muttered, looking away.

He scowled. "This is no joke, Toothless! You will stop with these stories, do you understand? Chasing after imaginary beasts will not make you a dragon killer, it makes you a fool." When I didn't say anything in return he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Go home, I have things to do. Make sure he gets there." The last sentence was aimed at Grump, who had walked up behind me.

Grump cuffed me lightly on the head in a gesture to move forward, so I did with a reluctant grumble. As we made our way, we happened to pass the Fire Brigade, who of course chose to throw in their own unwanted comments.

"Quite the performance." the twins cackled elbowing each other, which then turned into a brawl.

"Wow, looks like Mister Perfect Viking isn't so perfect anymore." Hookfang sneered. I glared at him but didn't respond, though I did smirk when Grump put a hand to his helmet and pushed him to the ground.

Storm and Magnhild hadn't said anything. Magnhild because, while she followed the others, she wasn't really one for insults and anything mean in general, and Storm because she also wasn't one for petty insults, but I could tell by the look on her face that she was judging me, and there was a smugness to her now that my Perfect Viking image was in danger.

"I hit the Night Fury, Grump." I muttered as we made our was uphill to the my house. "I know I did."

Grump chuckled, patting my shoulder. "Ye know tha', even if ye _did_ hit th' Night Fury, it's very hard t' believe it, Toothless. Skullcrusher has a point, no one has ever seen one, much less gotten close to even grazing it."

"But _I_ saw it! Right after it hit the catapult I saw it in the light of the blast!" I said, clenching my fists until my knuckles turned white. "I heard it roar in pain after I let loose my arrow and it fell into the trees!" I hit the front door of my house in frustration. "What do I have to do to prove myself? I train and train and train, and it was only recently that he let me leave the Fire Brigade! I work so hard to be the warrior he wants me to be and he won't even humor me!"

"Ah, Toothless, he does listen to ye." Grump said. "Yer story's just... a wee bit fantastical to believe."

I gave him a deadpan stare. "Gee, thanks." Sighing, I opened the door. "Shoulda seen it coming. I'm not his _real_ son, why would he have faith in some recluse taking up his space and time?" I waved off Grump's assurances. "Night, Grump." And shut the door before he could say more.

I waited till I was sure he was gone before sprinting to the back door. I'd prove I wasn't crazy, then maybe I'd finally be taken more seriously.

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

 ** _Been wanting to see more species swap AUs._**

 ** _Question: Should I go with Hiccup loosing a tail fin and Toothless a foot, or should I do something different? I had an idea on something different, but I wanna know what others think._**

 ** _There are some name changes, Stormfly is now just Storm, and Magnhild is Meatlug. If the name sites I got the name on are right, Magnhild means mighty, strong, powerful in battle. There will be other name changes, especially if I do the sequel, but right now, Stormfly and Meatlug are the only ones._**

 ** _And no, there's no Toothless/Stormfly romance_**


	2. Useless

" _Keep up, Useless._ " A flame-skin rumbled from my left. " _You would not want to shame your predecessors and become Her Tribute on your first Gathering, would you?_ "

I bared my teeth at the older dragon. " _I will not shame them or become Tribute, Surly. I am a night-wing, I would sooner eat my own leg than shame our Queen or the ones before me._ "

A spike-tail purred derisively from behind. " _Then you will have to tell us what night-wing tastes like, Useless, before She finds out Herself._ "

The surrounding Thunder roared and crows in amusement, I hiss and quickly lift myself further up into the clouds to escape their jeers.

I was finally old enough to join a Gathering. Something I'd waited many seasons for. Being the only night-wing in the Nest would not be so bad, had I not fallen short of what was expected.

I was a runt, my scales were black-brown, not the black-blue I was told night-wings possessed. I had all the speed of a night-wing, and none of the grace, I was constantly tripping over my own feet and tail and slamming into the sea stacks surrounding our Nest. I learned to fly and use my flames many seasons after the others of my age.

Had I not been the only night-wing, and smart for my age, my Queen might have taken me as Tribute early on.

" _Viking Nest ahead! Be ready!_ " The Thunder Lead bellowed. " _Night-wing! Get in position!_ "

I trilled in acknowledgement, breaking away from the Thunder and circling the Human Nest.

Vikings have always intrigued me. They were so very clever, they could make so many things with their little hands and imaginations. They had no claws so they crafted their own. They could not burrow or make tunnels in rock, so they used trees and stone to make their dwellings. They had no fur or scales to protect them from the elements, so they made use of the leftovers from their prey. No fire, so they built their own flaming-rock throwers. They were very smart. I would have loved to know more about them, but She requires sustenance, and the Vikings stand in the way.

Below me the Thunder have engaged the Vikings, spike-tails and buzz-wings going after the food, two-necks going after the Vikings dwellings, and flame-skins spread out. There were also many little-biters, but they usually did their own thing.

The Thunder Lead, a flame-skin, has engaged the Alpha, which is my cue.

 _SHRIIIIIIIIII-BOOM!_

Direct hit! Who's Useless now, huh!?

I come back around and unleash a follow up attack, swooping low to dodge the aftershock. I'm distracted by scoping out my next target, I haven't regained my height as I should have, which is how a Viking fly-claw manages to hit where my wing meets my shoulder. Pain shoots through me and my wing stutters, throwing me off course and sending me hurdling into the dense trees.

The pain in my shoulder is drowned out as I tumble and crash through trees and rocks, my scales protecting me from worse damage, but not the pain.

I feel a searing slash across my face just before I finally hit the dirt, digging a trench into the ground and finally halting. I only have a few pain filled moments of consciousness to think..

 _Maybe... they were right..._

* * *

 ** _Author's Notes_**

 _ **Taking a few ideas from different** **interpretations**_ **of what dragons name things:**

 _ **flame-skins/Monstrous Nightmares**_

 _ **night-wing/Night Fury**_

 _ **spike-tails/Deadly Nadder**_

 _ **buzz-wings/Gronkle**_

 _ **little-biters/Terrible Terrors**_

 _ **fly-claw/arrow**_

 _ **dwellings/houses**_

 _ **A Thunder is a smaller group, while a Flock is all the dragons in a Nest**_

 ** _And they name each other as how they see one another, so while one dragon may call another Stupid, a different dragon might call them Curious_**

 ** _I've also added a picture of what Toothless and Hiccup look like on my DeviantArt and Tumblr, both SierLeAn_**


	3. Mercy

I groaned through gritted teeth as I crossed off another place on my map. I had been searching since morning for the stupid beast and had yet to see even a scale.

Slamming the map closed and stuffing in into my vest I ran my hands over my face in frustration.

"Gods... I've never misplaced my bow, never lost a knife, _how_ have I managed to lose an _entire dragon_!" I smacked a branch in my path, ducking underneath when it came back, when I noticed something.

A huge trench had been dug into the ground. Looking up I saw that the tree above me ended a few feet from my head, the rest had toppled next to the trench.

I slid down the trench, noting a few dark scales and some blood here and there, proving that I'd finally found it.

I slowed as I got closer, there was something large breathing heavily on the other side. I carefully pulled my bow off my back and readied an arrow before slowly rising.

My breath caught as I finally laid eyes on the elusive Night Fury. It looked nothing like what we imagined, nothing like the Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death itself. It was actually on the smaller side, slim with no huge spikes, large wings and four fins at the base and end of it's tail, which was what made it so fast in the air. It's scales were a dark brown, and though it's claws looked sharp, they were small and it's feet were somewhat stubby, unlike the massive talons other dragons sported.

It lay on it's side, head hidden behind one huge wing. Just under where the wing met it's shoulder, I could just barely see the broken shaft of the arrow I'd brought it down with, blood trickled lazily from where it was buried.

The dragon hadn't moved as I observed it, save for it's labored breathing, the paralytic on my arrow, coupled with it's injuries must have weakened it severly. Still, I kept my arrow aimed at it's vitals as I drew closer.

"I actually did it." I laughed. "I actually brought down a Night Fury. Tch, some Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death. You cause so much trouble for us, and you're brought down by a single arrow." I lower my bow slightly, leaning in to try and get a peek of it's head, when it suddenly lurches, the wing flaring up and it's claws ready to tear, only to stop as it slumps with a pained roar, blood running freely from the wound on it's shoulder.

It's silent save for the dragon's pained crooning. My arrow was once again aimed at it's neck, and I stood frozen from where I'd jumped back. It didn't move again so I crept closer once more.

It's wing now out of the way, I could finally see it's face, no spikes, no huge jutting teeth, just a single eye, forest green with a hazy, slit pupil, glaring accusingly into my own eyes.

I draw myself to full height, glaring into it's eye. "I'm going to kill you, dragon." I tell it. "I'm going to shoot you in the throat, then cut out your heart and take it to my father." I draw my bow tighter and the dragon groans, almost... pleading. I take a breath, tearing my eyes from where they'd drifted back to meet the dragon's, only to slowly make eye contact again. We stared at each other for a long moment, and the more I looked into it's eyes, the more I knew it was pleading to me, afraid of death, afraid of... me.

I grit my teeth and break eye contact, bringing me bow back up from where it'd lowered, and the dragon made a sorrowful sound as it closed it's eye and let it's head drop.

I felt as if I'd nicked myself with my own arrows, paralyzed as a war was waged in my mind. I _had_ to do this! I had to prove to Skullcrusher that I was more than a teenager that's good with a bow! But... the dragon looked so scared. It didn't want to die, and it was scared of _me_. A _dragon_ was afraid of a _viking_!

I sighed and lowered my bow, all my fight draining out of me as I gazed, not at a Monster, but a living thing, that was wounded and afraid and just wanted to live.

I shook my head and turned, already putting my bow and arrow away, only to stop, glancing back at the dragon.

* * *

The Viking was taking it's sweet time, it must be one of the crueler ones, drawing out my death for it's own amusement. Maybe it was rethinking a quick death and was planning on shooting me in the back to paralyze me before cutting my wings off to take _them_ to it's _'father_ ', whatever that was.

My flock-mates were right, I really was Useless. My first Gathering and I was downed by a little fly-claw that had been shot by a small juvenile! I was almost glad I was stuck here, just so I didn't have to hear their mocking as I was brought to Her as Tribute. However, I was also so _alone_. I could no longer feel Her presence, the comforting hum in the back of my mind that told me She was watching over me was gone. I was stuck here, in pain, about to die, without my flock-mates or my Queen, only a single Viking.

I was always Useless, and I'll die without ever having another Name.

There was a heavy breath from the Viking and the shuffle of feet. Was it.. turning around? Did it decide to leave me to die painfully slow? Or was it bringing it's flockmates back as an audience to my death? It really _was_ one of the crue- _**PAIN!**_

I shriek was torn from my throat as small hands grasped the fly-claw and pulled. My claws dug furrows into the dirt and I thrashed as I felt hot blood gush from the wound as it was slowly torn back out.

It was pulled free with a sickening squelch and I finally got my paws under me, blindly launching myself at the source of all my pain and fear.

I could feel it's tiny heart thudding under my paw, it's chest heaving as I glared down at it. My wounds, hunger, and thirst made my vision blur, but through the haze I could still see the fear on it's face. The same fear it had caused me.

Drawing myself up and painfully spreading my wings to appear bigger, I opened my mouth, feeling a vindictive triumph as it flinched and shut it's eyes. Feeling that I let the anticipation build long enough, I let out the loudest, ear shattering roar, right into it's face before bounding off of it and pushing myself into the air, a half pained, half relieved roar escaping as I clumsily flew as far away from the Viking as I could.


	4. Beginning

After getting over the shock of having survived a direct confrontation with a Night Fury, Toothless then had to get over the fact that the only reason he was in one to begin with was because he _hadn't killed it_. It'd been hurt badly, weak, it would have been easy, and yet he'd _helped_ it! He'd helped one of the things that consistently brought pain and loss to his village!

He wandered the forest, thinking over and over again about his actions and the actions of the dragon. He tried to calm himself with target practice and some hunting, but he kept getting distracted and decided to give up.

Now, just after the sun went down, he stepped into his house. The first thing he noticed was that Skullcrusher was there, tending to the fire. Toothless didn't really want to speak with him at the moment, so he headed towards the stairs as quietly as he could.

He only got a few steps up before Skullcrusher called his name, standing and turning to face him.

He winced slightly. "Father." He hesitantly walked back down the steps. "I, uh, need to talk to you."

"I need to speak with you as well, Toothless." Skullcrusher said.

"I don't want to fight dragons." Toothless said.

"I think it's time you learned how to fight dragons." Skullcrusher stated.

They paused. "What?"

"You go first." Skullcrusher motioned.

"No, no, you go first." The younger insisted.

The chief nodded. "I'll be leaving for Helheim's Gate tonight." Toothless nodded. "It was decided that, while we were gone, you and the rest of the teens would begin dragon training."

Toothless sucked in a shocked breath, then plastered an excited grin. "Oh. That's... that's great!" Internally he was panicking.

Skullcrusher returned the smile, patting his shoulder. "You'll need this." He lifted a sword from it's spot on the wall, handing it to Toothless. He placed both hands on Toothless' shoulders, gazing down at him proudly. "When you carry that sword, you carry all of us with you. Which means you walk like us, you talk like us, you _think_ like us. No more hiding in the shadows." Toothless tensed, fighting a scowl, hearing the unsaid meaning of those words.

No more hiding in the shadows. Like a _coward_.

He sighed in internally. "Yes, father."

Skullcrusher nodded. "Good. Train hard." He hoisted a sack onto his shoulder and put his helmet on. "I'll be back. Probably."

"And I'll be here. Maybe." The door closed, leaving Toothless alone.

What was he going to do?

* * *

Grump pushed up large gate doors and lead the teens into a large dome pit.

"Welcome to dragon training!" He said cheerfully.

Before she stepped foot inside, Storm took in a deep breath. "No turning back."

The teens walked in slowly, craning their necks and turning in circles as they finally lay eyes on the interior of the fighting ring. They'd all dreamed of this moment for their entire lives.

The twins started talking about their preferred method of scarring and where they hoped the scars would be. Toothless rolled his eyes as he walked in behind them, Storm was agreeing, so long as the scarring stayed below neck level.

' _I hope you get a fire ball right to the face.._ ' He thought.

Despite his hopes that he'd finally developed the ability to literally blend into the shadows, there were not many places for him to make use of his usual disappearing tricks and Hookfang spotted him easily.

"Oh, look," The slightly older teen sneered. "The Viking Wonder is here. I thought you caught a _Night Fury,_ shouldn't you be disqualified?"

Toothless scowled, but didn't respond, instead turning to Grump, who was calling for them to line up.

"As ye know, the recruit who does best will get the honor of killing his first dragon, in front of the entire village!" He gestured to the large doors behind him. "Behind these doors are just a few of the many species you will learn to fight!"

As he listed off each of the caged dragons, Toothless took the time to center himself. He'd be able to dodge, if it came to blows, he'd use the flat or pommel of his sword, worse comes to worse, he wouldn't deal any serious injuries.

Toothless turned his attention back onto Grump, who was standing at the last cage, declaring "-and, the Gronckle." while putting one meaty hand on the lever that would release the dragon.

"Woah, wait, aren't you gonna teach us first?" Hookfang stuttered, looking mildly panicked.

Toothless recognized the mischievous grin on Grump's face. "I believe in learning on the job." With that, he pulled the lever.

The doors burst open and a buzzing golden blur shot out, the teens scattered as the dragon flew past them and into the wall.

"Today is about survival!" Grump lectured as the dragon scooped up conveniently placed rocks into it's maw. "If you get blasted, you're dead! Quick! What's the first thing you'll need!"

"A doctor?" Magnhilde guessed.

"A shield!" Both Toothless and Storm exclaimed. As they all ran towards the shields, Toothless took notice of the fact that the dragon hadn't taken the time to fire at them, it had been searching the chain net above.

"Your most important piece of equipment is your shield! If you must make a choice between a sword or a shield, choose the shield!"

Deeming the arena inescapable for the time being and the viking teens a more crucial matter, the dragon dove down and scooped up a few rocks.

Toothless kept an eye on it, making sure he stayed out of it's range, all while shaking his head at his fellow teens antics, particularly Barf and Belch's.

"All dragons have a limited number of shots, how many does a Gronckle have?"

"Five?"

"No, six!"

"Correct! That's one for each of you!"

It didn't really surprise him when, soon, only he and Storm remained standing.

He sent a smirk in her direction. "Just you and me, Storm."

She smirked back, eyes narrowed. "Soon, it'll be just me."

They both dodged as the dragon fired at them, smacking their shields to disorient it. The Gronckle wavered in the air, shaking it's head as it tried to gain it's baring.

Toothless grunted as a blind shot struck the ground in front of him, the sound brought the dragon's attention to him and he dodged another shot. Thankfully, it was it's last.

Grump caught it with a hook he had at the ready. "That's six! Back t' bed ye overgrown sausage!" He threw it back into it's cage and slammed the gate shut. He turned back to the teens, dusting his hands off.

"Remember. A dragon always, _always_ goes for th' kill."

Toothless' eyes narrowed. ' _So why-'_

* * *

"-didn't you?" I whispered to myself, holding the arrow I had pulled from the Night Fury.

I was back where I had freed it. All that was left was churned up dirt and grass, claw marks in the ground, broken branches, and some scales.

I frowned, and started walking in the direction it had flown. I didn't expect it to be anywhere near Berk right now, it was probably back at the Nest, but a part of me hoped, for some reason, that it had stayed.

There were a few broken branches, where it had smacked into the trees during it's escape, making a nice trail towards rock wall, which, after I squeezed through a convenient hole, hid a large cove. A nice place, but there wasn't any sign of a-

I gasped and threw myself down as a dark blur shot up inches from my face. The Night Fury hit the edge of the wall, claws scrambling, before it pushed off and made a clumsy landing at the other end of the cove. I jumped down to a couple of feet, ducking low as I watched the dragon.

It had shaken itself off from it's ungraceful landing and I watched as it launched off the ground and into the air, powerful wings propelling it up, up, up, and suddenly it let out a sound, and I was shocked to realize it sounded _distressed_ , as it turned and almost crashed back into the dirt. It tried a few more times, but never got much higher than the treeline before it turned and landed. Finally, it seemed to give up, shrieking in what I could only assume was frustration.

"Why don't you just.. fly away?" I wondered quietly. The dragon blasted the ground in front of it, only to strike too close to it's face, causing it to flinch and turn, giving me a look at it's face.

Long, thin, deep and still bleeding gashes tore across the dragon's face, from the outer edge of one eye, across it's snout, and to the outer edge of the other eye. Even from a distance, I could see the start of infection and the way the dragon's eyes had trouble focusing.

It was going blind.

There was a sudden clatter, and I realized that I had still been holding the arrow head, and in my shock I had dropped it. Before I could try and hide, the dragon's attention had been caught, and it was now glaring in my direction. It was crouched low and I could see it's nostrils expanding as it tried to identify what it couldn't see.

* * *

The Viking juvenile had returned.

I could not see it, only a dark blur high up on the rocks, but I could recognize the smell.

It didn't make any sudden movements or loud noises, as most Dragons would expect from Vikings, but I had already decided that this particular Viking was different from it's Flock, it had freed me, after all.

I could only guess what it was doing. Observing me, probably, and that was not something I liked. I could no longer observe back, I couldn't detect signs of aggression from it's body, had it been closer I might have, but I could only smell it.

Finally it moved, and luckily it was not towards me. I watched as the dark smudge climbed up the rocks and disappeared.

I hated the stupid Viking. It had grounded me, and it had given me false hope when it freed me. Instead of being able to soar to freedom, I could not see far in front of me. My once superior vision in the dark was useless, nothing but darkness and smudges of flame from the Viking Nest. In the light it was only slightly better, but every time I tried, I could not seem to find the right direction.

Now, I could only wait, trapped on all sides and no longer able to fly again. Doomed to starvation, a brutal death by Vikings, or a slow, agonizing death when forest predators and maggots found my starved form.

My name in life had been Useless, and now, I'll die as Nobody.

* * *

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE**_

 ** _So, I'm still alive! Sorry for the wait, got stuff going on and it's been hard to get the writing juices flowing_**

 ** _I made Hiccup blind, or partially blind, kinda got the idea from the show, where Toothless has echolocation. Which seems random, I haven't watched the full series, so I don't know if they gave an explanation on why he has that._**

 ** _Anyways, hope ya like it!_**


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